its of character in such a being, possess no mean interest
to speculative minds. He usually appeared in public, in capacious shoes
with black cotton stockings; and was observed to be particularly attached
to a black glazed stock, without tie or ornament of any description.

There is perhaps no profession, however useful; no pursuit, however
meritorious; which can escape the petty attacks of vulgar minds. Mr.
Joseph Tuggs was a grocer. It might be supposed that a grocer was beyond
the breath of calumny; but no--the neighbours stigmatised him as a
chandler; and the poisonous voice of envy distinctly asserted that he
dispensed tea and coffee by the quartern, retailed sugar by the ounce,
cheese by the slice, tobacco by the screw, and butter by the pat. These
taunts, however, were lost upon the Tuggses. Mr. Tuggs attended to the
grocery department; Mrs. Tuggs to the cheesemongery; and Miss Tuggs to
her education. Mr. Simon Tuggs kept his father's books, and his own
counsel.

One fine spring afternoon, the latter gentleman was seated on a tub of
weekly Dorset, behind the little red desk with a wooden rail, which
ornamented a corner of the counter; when a stranger dismounted from a
cab, and hastily entered the shop. He was habited in black cloth, and
bore with him, a green umbrella, and a blue bag.

'Mr. Tuggs?' said the stranger, inquiringly.

'_My_ name is Tuggs,' replied Mr. Simon.

'It's the other Mr. Tuggs,' said the stranger, looking towards the glass
door which led into the parlour behind the shop, and on the inside of
which, the round face of Mr. Tuggs, senior, was distinctly visible,
peeping over the curtain.

Mr. Simon gracefully waved his pen, as if in intimation of his wish that
his father would advance. Mr. Joseph Tuggs, with considerable celerity,
removed his face from the curtain and placed it before the stranger.

'I come from the Temple,' said the man with the bag.

'From the Temple!' said Mrs. Tuggs, flinging open the door of the little
parlour and disclosing Miss Tuggs in perspective.

'From the Temple!' said Miss Tuggs and Mr. Simon Tuggs at the same
moment.

'From the Temple!' said Mr. Joseph Tuggs, turning as pale as a Dutch
cheese.

'From the Temple,' repeated the man with the bag; 'from Mr. Cower's, the
solicitor's. Mr. Tuggs, I congratulate you, sir. Ladies, I wish you joy
of your prosperity! We have been successful.' And the man with the bag
leisurely divested himself of his u